


Fireflies

by Yarol2075



Category: Thunderbirds
Genre: Childhood Memories, Fluff, Gen, Nostalgia, Short
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-23
Updated: 2020-07-23
Packaged: 2021-03-05 07:46:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 282
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25467229
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yarol2075/pseuds/Yarol2075
Summary: Scott has a childhood memory that is his and his alone.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 13





	Fireflies

Scott loved to share memories with his little brothers, and they would always be his _little brothers_ no matter how big they got. But there was one memory he kept to himself. It was his. It was special.

He had to have been about three. Because there was no suggestion of either Virgil or John in it, and he knew he had to have been very small because everything else in the memory was so very big. Well, except the fireflies.

He was on the farm, it had to be early Summer, and he was being taken care of by his grandfathers: Grandpa, Grant Tracy, and Pomp, Shannon Taylor-Gordon. Sometimes Scott was sad that he alone had any clear memories of Pomp, but at least he had them. For men with such disparate backgrounds, they had gotten along well, Grant and Shannon bonding over a shared personal belief of hard-work and treating people fairly and with respect.

He couldn’t remember why he was being taken care of by them, but he did remember he had been tucked into bed earlier, and then awakened by Grandpa lifting him up, with a gentle “Shhh!” and taken outside.

Outside where the entire yard and the fields beyond were alight with fireflies. To his young eyes it seemed like millions, billions of them. And he had sat tucked between his grandfathers on the old free-standing bench swing, watching them fly and dance and swirl through the air. 

Eventually he had fallen asleep surrounded by tiny glowing bits of life, and to the deep soft rumbles of his Grandpa and Pomp talking.

Perhaps someday he would share it, but that memory was his, and it was special.


End file.
